


Veela Problems

by mothermalfoy (slytherinxravenclaw)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/F, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Veela Draco Malfoy, Veela Harry Potter, a/b/o dynamics, but with veela, tragic ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-08-09 17:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16454438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinxravenclaw/pseuds/mothermalfoy
Summary: From the time he was young, Draco could always remember his father touting the importance of his veela heritage, but when Draco doesn't present as a dominant or alpha veela, his father insists that he must hide his submissive veela side. Unfortunately for Draco, Harry Potter, an actual alpha veela know's his secret and will do anything to claim him as his own, including fight off any other potential suitors for his hand.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual the world of Harry Potter belongs entirely to J.K.Rowling I'm just playing in it.   
> Also, I would like to thank the-Mad-GlitterEmpress on Tumblr for helping me come up with the central theme of the story as I mentioned I wanted to write a veela! Draco story.

> _The dominant veela (often male) will present anywhere from sixteen to seventeen depending on family heritage, veela influence and other varying factors. Submissive veela (often female) present towards the later age seventeen to eighteen, to allow for maturity in the dominant/male veelas. For half-veelas (that is veela in any combination of wizard, fairy, goblin, elf, etc.) this can lean more towards the eighteenth birthday._
> 
> _\- Newt Scamander Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Updated, and Annotated Editon, (1990)_

Draco Malfoy was fast approaching seventeen and still nothing. His father would be furious.

Fortunately for Draco, that summer, Voldemort and the Death Eaters had moved into Malfoy Manor making him the  _least_ of his father’s concerns, as it was, Draco had never been so grateful to have  _not_ come into his heritage now. Not that it had entirely protected him from some of the more lecherous Death Eaters, leering at him or otherwise making lude comments whenever he entered a room.

By the end of the war Draco had still not come into his heritage, and, under house arrest, Lucius Malfoy had nothing but time, which was how he had discovered that Draco had yet to present.

“My own son! A bloody submissive veela!” he hissed.

“Lucius please!” Narcissa cried as the three stood in the Manor’s parlor. Lucius glared, shaking his head.

“Unacceptable! There  _must_ be something we can do!”

“Lucius the only way we can know for sure is when he turns eighteen,” Narcissa said kindly.

“No self-respecting witch would want a submissive veela!” Lucius argued.

“Well that’s bloody fine with me, I don’t  _want_ a witch!” Draco yelled. His eyes widened as he stared at his parents. He hadn’t meant to admit that. Lucius was furious now.

Narcissa smiled proudly at her son. “Well done Draco.”

“You knew? All this time and you knew our son was… like that! No bloody wonder,” he shook his head. “We can fix this. All we have to do is make sure Draco’s veela allure is suppressed before he returns for his 8th year, then you  _will_ be taking a witch, and you will damn well be a dominant veela or so help me. I will disown you.”

Draco glared at his father. “You’d disown your only heir?” he laughed. “Fine, let the Malfoy name die with you. See if I care,” Lucius looked aghast at that, but before he could argue, Draco was gone, leaving his father still fuming in the parlor, as his mother stared after him.

“Lucius Malfoy!” she said standing to her full height now. “You  _will_ apologize to your son, and you will make sure he knows he is loved! I did not survive a war just to watch our family fall apart at your hands again!” she yelled. Lucius gaped at his wife when Narcissa stormed out of the room in a swirl of lilac robes. Lucius growled.  _Bloody buggering hell!_


	2. September

The start of the new school year brought with it, all the usual excitement and nervousness that accompanied a start of term with the additional nervousness and discomfort of the months that had preceded it. The war was still fresh on the minds of most at Hogwarts and the painful memories of lost friends and loved ones only served to raise the tensions for the start of the new term. To make matters worse, Draco had his veela inheritance to contend with, which had, in fact, come in precisely on his eighteenth birthday. Much to Lucius’s displeasure. He had, miraculously, calmed down, eventually, and by 1 September, he had even managed to agree not to force Draco onto suppressants, though he had been wary about allowing Draco to return without some form of protection from the many dominant veela who would no doubt attempt to seduce him the moment they realized. To say nothing of the rest of the school. 

“Don’t you think I would have noticed another veela by now?” Draco had asked. Save the Delacour girl in his fourth year, Draco had not really known of any other veela at Hogwarts.

“All the more reason,” his father informed him. “Wizards will be fawning all over you and I will not allow just anyone to court my son. If it must be a wizard, he must be at the very least a pureblood. If not veela himself.” Draco had sighed but mostly agreed. He supposed he could give his father at least that much. It was a start anyway.

The train ride was, uncomfortable. He had barely made it to his own private compartment in the back of the train when Blaise, Pansy, and Theodore had waltzed in and sat down beside him. Draco tensed, Theo’s eyes had taken on a sort of glassy appearance and Draco wanted to hide. 

“My, don’t we look ravishing,” Theo said. Pansy eyed the brunette.

“Theo, have you lost your mind?” Pansy demanded. Draco gave her a sad look at that, “Oh Salazar! It’s finally happened hasn’t it?”

Draco nodded. Blaise eyed him, “What’s happened then?”

“Draco’s come into his inheritance,” Pansy said. Theo had moved closer then. “Theodore if you move one centimeter closer to Draco I will hex you!” Theo glared, and Pansy pulled out her wand, pointing it at Theo’s chest. “Don’t make me do it. I’m warning you, Nott. I will happily take you out!” Were it happening to anyone else, Draco might have laughed, but the fact it was happening to him made this all decidedly less amusing, he thought. Theo opened his mouth to babble something no doubt ridiculous at Draco just then. “Right, that’s it, out,” Pansy stood and dragged Theo bodily out of the compartment. “Move it or lose it lover boy. That’s a good lad,” shoving him out she locked the door behind them with a slam and fell into the seat opposite with a sigh.

“Thanks,” Draco said. Pansy smiled at her friend, patting his shoulder, then rounded on Blaise.

“Not gonna have to worry about you am I?”

“No,” Blaise said calmly. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. He’s still the same blond, ice prince of Slytherin we’ve known and loved for ages,” Blaise said with a shrug.

“You’re not affected by the allure?” Pansy asked.

“Obviously,” Blaise replied, reading the latest issue of Witch Weekly and looking rather bored.

“Hmm, you know what they say about people not affected by the allure,” Pansy grinned.

“They have taste?”

“HEY!” Draco cried.

“Not that you aren’t wonderful,” he replied quickly. “Just not my type.”

“Yes, you rather prefer ginger weasels don’t you?” Pansy said with a smirk.

“Blaise! You and Weasel? What a betrayal!” Draco said, mock aghast.

“Stuff it you prat! Nothing’s happened. Yet,” he said trying and failing to look as though he were still reading then. 

“Not aware of your charms is he? Too busy trailing after Granger,” Draco snickered.

“No, that would be your darling sister, Pans,” Blaise smirked as he looked across the compartment at his friend. Pansy let out a shriek at that.

“Zabini you bastard!”

“Fair’s fair now, love. You revealed my crush, so I had to return the favor,” he grinned just over the top of his magazine. Pansy glared, ripping the magazine out of his hands, and opened the window, chucking the magazine out it before she closed the window again. Blaise merely raised an eyebrow at that. Draco sighed and downed the suppressing potion before the train arrived at Hogsmeade. Whatever else he thought about the potion, Draco could not afford the distractions of wizards like Nott accosting him all the time.

The Welcoming Feast was much like all the others, each house sat at their own tables, and as always, it began with a welcoming speech, this one by Head Mistress McGonagall.

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts,” she began. “The last few months have been, especially trying for many of our students and staff here, many of you returned to help rebuild the school over the summer, and in so doing, rebuilding ourselves in the process. This will not be an easy year by any means. For our returning seventh years, this will be an intensely difficult time in which you will be expected to study like the other seventh years and prepare for your NEWTs and lives beyond Hogwarts. It is, however, my intention to promote a sense of inter-house unity this year. Now more than ever, it is imperative we show a united front. When the house system was created at the start of the school it was done so to ensure that students could have like-minded friends who understood them and shared some of their values. Since then, however, this has been the cause of great division amongst the students here at Hogwarts. It is with this in mind that I am announcing the 8th year dormitories which will include students from all houses. After the end of this year, the 8th year dorms will become the new seventh year dorms, allowing for students from all houses to join and work together. I assure you, you have something to learn from each of the houses. Should anyone object to this living arrangement, I kindly invite them to leave the school immediately. Do I make myself clear?” murmurs broke out but everyone seemed to be nodding. The Head Mistress smiled at that. “Wonderful,” she said. “Then let the welcoming feast begin.”

Draco sighed staring at the spread before him, it all looked good but for the life of him, he couldn’t shake his complete lack of hunger, an unfortunate side effect of the suppressing potion. Draco snorted, he hadn’t planned this particularly well. The potion tended to last eight hours, meaning that assuming he took it after breakfast he should have his appetite back sometime by dinner. The trouble was, taking his meals without causing a riot seemed impossible at best. Draco groaned, he was totally and utterly screwed.


	3. Potions and Potters

Draco didn’t sleep particularly well that night. Since the war, Draco had been plagued with nightmares; losing Crabbe, his parents, himself, just about anyone he could have  _and had_ lost. Consumed by endless flames. Most nights Draco would awaken in a cold sweat, his body dripping from head to toe, feeling as though he were burning up from the heat of the flames licking at his skin again. There was no Potter to save him in most of his dreams, just fire devouring everything in its wake. This particular night his dreams had been filled with different horrors. Wizards chasing him down the corridors of Hogwarts, the same glassy-eyed look in their eyes Theo had given him earlier that morning, all hoping to get a taste of the veela. Once more, Draco awoke in a cold sweat, his heart racing. He took in the sight of the darkened room. Casting a tempus charm Draco saw that it was nearing one in the morning. His suppressing potion had worn off and he suddenly found himself ravenous. His stomach rumbled so loud that he thought he might wake up his new dormmate, Neville Longbottom of all people. Draco supposed it could have been worse, it could have been Potter after all, or, he shuddered at the thought. Weasley. Potter he supposed would have been somewhat more appealing, for reasons Draco would just as soon not have given much thought to, but Weasley was simply intolerable unless you were Blaise, who had inexplicably been granted every wet dream he’d ever had by being made Weasley’s dorm-mate. 

Draco sat up in his bed, his stomach grumbled loudly again.  _Right, right, food,_ he thought _._ Pulling on a robe, Draco snuck out of his bedroom and into the eighth year common room. A dull fire crackled in the grate, distantly, through the shadows, Draco noticed a lone figure laying on the couch, though he didn’t care enough to see who it was. They hadn’t noticed him, or if they had, didn’t attempt to stop him. As it was, his stomach was roaring now and Draco snuck out of the common room, located in the old Astronomy Tower ( _the cruel irony,_  Draco had thought) and made his way towards the staircases, sneaking past sleeping portraits and several ghosts to the kitchens. 

Down here, he was close to his home away from home, and vaguely Draco wondered if he couldn’t sneak into the Slytherin common room to stare out at the lake as he had done many a night in his younger years. Whatever else McGonagall had said about inter-house unity, Draco would always hold his fellow Slytherin’s in higher regard. Not because they were purebloods, but because they were his friends. They understood him in a way no Gryffindor or Hufflepuff possibly could. Draco knew a number of Ravenclaw’s and (save Lovegood) they were all pretty good eggs. Odd at the best of times, and terribly swotty, but, good nonetheless.

Tickling the pear on the painting outside the kitchens, Draco snuck in and was accosted by an excitable house elf who had appeared out of nowhere in front of him a moment later.

“Master Malfoy sir,” the elf said bowing low. “What can we do for you here in the Hogwarts kitchens?” he asked.

“I was just hungry,” Draco said. “I thought I’d grab myself a sandwich and some treacle.”

The house elf bowed low again and vanished. Seconds later, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, without the crust just as Draco liked it, appeared on the counter, along with a plate of treacle tart and a tall glass of pumpkin juice. Draco all but ran up to the meal, devouring the sandwich in record speed, and eating the treacle just as quickly. He sighed happily as he finished it, polishing off the pumpkin juice in one go. He had always particularly liked sweet things, but his veela side had made his sweet tooth even stronger. At once the plates disappeared and Draco looked around the otherwise empty kitchen. The elf hadn’t made itself known again, so, unsure of what else to do, Draco had simply thanked the empty kitchen and disappeared as quickly as he could, making his way back up to the Astronomy tower.

It was as draughty as ever, but somehow Draco appreciated this fact now. The chill was comforting on his overheated skin after waking up from the flames of his nightmares. 

Sneaking through the portrait of Orion that signified the 8th year dormitory, Draco passed the seemingly sleeping figure on the couch once more and snuck towards his room. Neville was still asleep, thankfully, Draco noted as he crawled into bed, hoping not to dream of any more fires that night, and making a mental note to discuss dreamless sleep potions with Severus’s portrait over the weekend. 

The following morning, found Draco up before the crack of dawn. It had been his intention to wake up before his fellow eighth years in order to enjoy a leisurely breakfast without being accosted. Draco’s life, however, was never that simple. He had managed the first part alright, waking up before the rest of his dorm, taking a long shower with the knowledge that he was totally alone, he’d even managed to sneak down to breakfast, far earlier than everyone else, or so he’d thought. Potter was already sitting at the Gryffindor table, putting jam onto his toast and what looked to be a considerable amount of sugar in his coffee. If his dumping half the bowl into it was any indication. Draco shook his head, he could handle this, he told himself as he took a seat at his table. The Gryffindor and Slytherin tables were far enough away from one another that even  _if_ Potter could smell him, and Draco very much doubted he would be affected by the allure, he wouldn’t have been able to. Draco didn’t look up to see if Potter had noticed his presence. Slowly, so as to avoid detection, Draco put jam onto his toast on both sides, cut off the crusts, and poured his own generous helping of sugar into his coffee.

Draco ate slowly, savoring the sweetness of his coffee, and toast, then some pancakes. He had all but finished when the sound of shuffling feet and yawns coming from the entrance to the Great Hall reached his ears.  _Just in time then,_ Draco thought as he pulled the phial from his pocket and downed the contents in one swallow. The taste was bitter, and briefly Draco wondered whether or not Severus could help with that too. 

The rest of his house shuffled in, just as Draco stood. Pansy raised an eyebrow at him but otherwise said nothing as Draco brushed imaginary lint off his pants and stalked out of the Great Hall. It was still early, far too early for him to go to his potions class, yet he found himself sneaking towards his godfather’s domain all the same. There had been a portrait of him back at the Manor, and some nights Draco had found himself speaking to his godfather about his troubles. Being a veela, and everything that seemed to go along with it. He could always count on his godfather to be practical, yet reassuring. Even in death, Severus was far more comforting about everything, than his own father had ever been. Occasionally, Draco thought Severus would have made a good parent had his life been different, or had he any interest in such things. Though Draco had never been foolish enough to mention this to his godfather.

Standing outside the potions classroom, Draco found himself thinking more and more about his old dorm, it was so close now, he could probably disillusion himself and sneak in behind a younger Slytherin, if only the hall weren’t so bloody empty. Draco sighed, miserably, there was nothing for it, of course, he could never go back now. It had been inevitable one day he would have to leave the dungeons behind, but the thought of being back now, and so close to his favorite place felt cruel somehow. 

Plopping himself onto the ground with a cushioning spell, Draco sat. Pulling out the coursebook for the year, Draco began to read. He didn’t know when Slughorn had come walking up, only that the man had begun talking to him, “Oh, didn’t see you there my boy,” Slughorn said, smiling down at him. “Well do come in, come in, eager to start are we?” he asked. Draco closed his book and got to his feet easily.

“Potions always was my favorite class,” Draco said. Not adding that it was entirely because of his godfather that he’d loved it.

“Yes I do seem to recall that,” Slughorn said with a chortle. “Now then, I understand from your father your in something of a predicament. Hmm?” Draco groaned,  _of course,_ his father had brought that up to his former head of House.  _Bloody hell._

“I wouldn’t call it a predicament per se,” Draco argued.

“Are you taking something for it? I don’t seem to sense the allure as they say.”

“Yes,” Draco replied. “I got up early for breakfast and took the suppressant right after.” Slughorn nodded.

“Good lad. I’m afraid the suppressant’s a bit of a nasty business. What with the appetite killer it has for a side effect. But it’s the best way you know. Not to cause a ruckus in class. Wouldn’t do, now would it?” Draco shook his head. “That’s a boy. Now then, to your seat.” Draco nodded and made his way to one of the tables towards the back. It had been Draco’s intention to stay as far away from trouble as he possibly could. To Draco’s dismay, however, trouble seemed to come looking for him now. Trouble, in the name of Harry Potter, who had dropped right down next to him, several minutes later, despite the entire classroom still being open. Draco opened his mouth to speak, only he couldn’t. His heart was racing now, he had caught Potter’s scent, earthy, musky, with a dash of something spicy and masculine that went straight to Draco’s head and screamed,  _fuck me._ It was all he could do not to spread himself on the table for Potter, and that was the most terrifying thought he’d ever had. Swallowing, Draco smiled weakly. It could only mean one thing, Harry Potter was a sodding veela, and not only that,  _he_ was a dominant veela. An alpha, veela. Draco felt his mouth water.

“Wh-why are you sitting here?” Draco asked. Harry smiled at him then, bright like the sun, and twice as powerful.  _This man killed Voldemort,_ his mind reminded him.  _He saved your arse on more than one occasion. Bet he could do more than save it now,_ another voice in his head said.

“It’s quiet over here,” Potter said by way of explanation. Draco nearly spluttered. He wanted to argue that it was bloody quiet everywhere because there was no one else in the classroom then. Only the Universe was determined to make a liar out of him, and instead, everyone had filed into the classroom then.  _Blessedly,_ and perhaps, ironically, alpha veela did not seem to possess the same allure Draco himself did unless you were a submissive veela. Not that this had stopped people from staring over at the two of them, speaking behind their hands and otherwise trying to get Potter’s attention. Being the boy-who-lived twice was an allure all its own Draco supposed.

Draco remained decidedly silent throughout their class, doing his best not to lean over and inhale Harry’s scent again. It was heady and intoxicating, and Draco thought he might want to drown in it. Somewhat in a daze, Draco had managed to prepare the potion, perfectly, shoving Potter out of the way, wordlessly whenever he tried to help. Not that he seemed to mind. 

The trouble was, he was always  _staring,_ at Draco. As if he knew. As if he could see his deepest secret just by looking at him. Draco swallowed, as he put the stopper in the phial. “Go put this up would you,” he snapped, handing Potter the phial. Potter took it with a grin, and for a brief moment, their fingers touched around the glass. Draco bit back a moan, but only just. The smell was overwhelming his senses as Potter held on to the phial and slipped it out of Draco’s weak grasp. It was a miracle he hadn’t dropped it in his state. Draco shook his head.  _Get a hold of yourself!_ he told himself, trying not to stare at the fully grown, and apparently,  _veela,_ wizardas Potter made his way over to Slughorn’s desk. Potter had filled out considerably since the last time he’d saw him. Or perhaps, Draco hadn’t really looked all that closely. Against his will, Draco wondered when Harry had come into his inheritance. Surely he would have noticed back in sixth year. Even  _then_ he would have been able to smell an alpha veela.

Draco tried to dislodge the thought from his mind as Potter made his way back to their desk with a grin again. “We make a good team Draco,” he said. Draco nearly swallowed his tongue at that. The was something about that rich, husky voice saying his name that made Draco’s veela brain go into overdrive at that.  _You would make beautiful mates,_ his mind told him.  _And powerful children. Just think of all the things Harry could provide. He could protect you like no one else has._ Draco nearly whimpered then. 

Standing up fast, Draco shot out of the potions classroom. If Slughorn had said anything to him, Draco hadn’t heard it.


	4. Draco's Peril

The rest of the day went by with relative mundanity. There were no more classes with Potter, until after lunch, which Draco had almost opted to skip. His first class after lunch would be Defense, arguably the class built for one Harry Potter, and if he wanted to pair up with Draco again, Draco knew he couldn’t be held responsible for his actions after watching an alpha veela use his power as he  _knew_ Potter would. Running towards the Great Hall, Draco squeezed in beside Pansy then, shoving Theo out of the way, “Hey!” he yelled as Draco sat down. Pansy eyed him.

“You’re in Defense with me next yes?”

“Yes,” Pansy said a spoon halfway to her mouth.

“Good, partner up with me.”

“What?”

“Pansy please,” he lowered his voice then and leaned in close to the witch to whisper. “Potter’s a bloody alpha, and it’s driving me mad!” Pansy’s eyes widened.

“Oh you poor dear,” she said, pulling him into her chest.

“Is that a yes?” Draco asked, his voice muffled by Pansy’s bosom.

“Of course darling,” she said. Draco sighed, happily.

Across the Great Hall, Harry was growling. He’d not been able to take his eyes off the blond since the moment he’d seen him in the Great Hall the day before. He was beautiful, more so than he had ever known Draco to be previously. There was something just so, tempting about him, the very sight of him made Harry’s mind short circuit and his trousers tighten. To say nothing of the possessive wave of jealousy that shot through him as he watched Pansy Parkinson squish Draco between her breasts in that hug. It was all Harry could do not to storm over there and demand she unhand him.

Hermione placed a hand on Harry’s. “Harry?” she asked. Harry yanked his hand away quickly as though burned. He didn’t want Draco to see them holding hands and get the wrong impression.

“I’m fine,” Harry lied, trying to pull his eyes away from Draco but with very little success. Pansy had unhanded him, and Harry had calmed slightly, but she was still too overly friendly with him. All the Slytherin’s were. Blaise Zabini with his easy smile at Draco, or making him laugh. Harry was mesmerized by that laugh. Not even the sound, just the way it lit up Draco’s face from the inside, out. Intensifying his beauty and making Harry want to shove him against the nearest flat surface and snog him senseless, then devour him.

Harry  _knew_ Draco was a veela. It was one of the worst-kept secrets about the Malfoy family, but Harry also knew that despite their proximity in class earlier that day, he hadn’t been able to smell him.

“Either he’s an alpha veela as well, which given his parentage is possible,” Hermione had said. “Or he’s on suppressants.”

“What for?”

“Well,” Hermione had said carefully. “If he weren’t an alpha veela. If he were more of a submissive veela, his allure would drive much of the school mad. Or it  _could_ anyway. It’s all very complicated,” she said handing him the latest copy of  _Fantastic Beasts._ “You should read it sometime. It’s terribly fascinating. Veela are incredibly complex, and still barely understood.”

Harry didn’t buy the theory that Draco was an alpha veela, not with the way he’d stared at Harry when he thought Harry wasn’t looking. His eyes full of barely concealed want. Harry’s  _own_ reaction to the blond was proof enough for that. Suppressants or no, Harry could  _sense_ Draco’s true nature, and his desire to claim Draco as  _his,_ was powerful.

  * * *

True to her word, Pansy had partnered with Draco in Defense, or at least, she’d tried to. The professor, Kingsley Shacklebolt no less, had  _other_ ideas in mind.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, you’ll be partnering up for the day,” the man said. Draco wanted to sob.  _How was he supposed to concentrate like this?_

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you,” Harry said with a wink. Draco growled then, pulling out his wand, Draco fired a series of hexes before the class had even begun.

“I don’t. Need. Your. Bloody. HELP!” Draco growled, casting a hex with each word. Harry merely grinned, waving off each spell without even a bloody wand. Draco was furious. He wanted to scream and attack Harry for real, but the easy way in which he’d thrown aside Draco’s hexes was almost enough to make him swoon. Harry was even more powerful than he’d thought.

“Defensive spells only Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Shacklebolt said. Draco glared.

Harry merely smiled at Draco as he continued glaring at the Auror’s back. It was only a life sentence in Azkaban that stopped him casting a tripping jinx on the man. “Right, come here then,” Harry said beckoning to Draco. Draco  _wanted_ to fight it. His better nature, his Slytherin and Malfoy pride,  _demanded_ it. But in the end, his veela side won out and he walked over to stand beside Harry. “Turn around,” Harry said. Draco eyed him.

“What?” But Harry had simply turned him bodily around, so he was right behind Draco now.

“Wand?” Harry said into his ear, his warm breath ghosting over Draco’s flesh. Draco shivered, Harry’s scent was overwhelming again and it was taking everything in Draco right now not to jump into Harry’s arms just then. Draco paused,  _Harry? Oh, bloody hell!_ His mind had stopped calling him Potter and when had  _that_ happened?He sighed, pulling out his wand. 

Harry wrapped his hand firmly around Draco’s then, swirling the wand as he said, “Protego.” A white light of protection surrounded them then, nearly blinding as it surrounded them. Harry had cast a spell with  _his_ wand.  _He’s showing off for you,_ Draco’s veela mind said.  _He’s a natural protector._

Draco wanted to sob. His self-control was waning thin, and Harry’s ability to protect them both using Draco’s wand was enough to make Draco’s legs go weak. It was all he could do not to collapse onto Harry then, he  _knew_ full well that he would catch him, and it was  _oh_ so tempting to just let it happen.  _Just let him take you. Claim you. Make you his. Only his. Forever, his._ Harry let go of his hand then, and Draco swallowed stepping carefully away from Harry.

“That’s… thank you,” Draco said. Harry smiled at him.

“I can do it wandlessly too,” Harry said then. “Wanna see?”

“I believe you,” Draco replied. Any more wandless magic and Draco wouldn’t be able to stop himself snogging Potter right in the middle of class. As it was, the rest of the hour dragged on slowly, grating Draco’s nerves.

The rest of the week moved in much the same fashion. Potter was generally insufferably hot, and undeniably powerful, as he made an effort to show Draco at nearly every available opportunity. Vaguely, Draco was reminded of his father’s peacocks and how they would preen for their mate come springtime if Harry had feathers, Draco suspected they’d be fully on display now. As it was,  _most_ veela did not have wings thank you very much. Or at least, not  _half-_ veela’s like himself. By the weekend, Draco was facing an entirely different problem, the suppressant potion didn’t seem to be helping for as long as it previously had. Draco had all but run to the Head Mistress’s office, following a run in with several male students who had been caught in his allure just before their last period and had started professing their undying love, and their many so-called accomplishments.

Draco had lost them somewhere around the corridor near the Humpbacked witch, he swallowed hard, trying to figure out what the password might be that he could see the Head Mistress, or better yet, see Severus. He would have the answer, Draco thought. He always had the… Draco froze, smelling the air. Harry was near, he could smell him. Without the help of his suppressants, Harry would be able to smell him too and Draco could ill afford such an embarrassment. To say nothing of what would undoubtedly happen if Draco was left unchecked.  _Bloody hell._ He stared at the statue.

“Please let me see Professor McGonagall,” he said. “It’s sort of an emergency,” to Draco’s astonishment, the statue moved aside, to reveal the spiral staircase of the Head Mistress’s office. Draco sprinted towards it, running up the rapidly moving staircase until he’d reached the Head Mistress’s door and knocked.

“Enter,” Professor McGonagall said. Draco slipped in. “Mr. Malfoy, I didn’t expect to be seeing you here,” the witch said. Draco sighed, trying to catch his breath. “Are you quite alright?” she asked.

“Suppressant’s, wearing off,” Draco gasped. Professor McGonagall’s eyes widened at that.

“Oh, dear,” she turned to the portraits behind her. “Severus! Oh Severus, do wake up.”

“What?” his godfather barked. “Can’t you see I’m enjoying the afterlife due to me?” he demanded. Professor McGonagall shot him a glare then. “Right well what is it?” Draco stepped closer to the portrait then. “Ah, Draco.”

“The suppressants are wearing off, Severus,” Professor McGonagall said.

“You have an alpha veela in the school I take it,” Severus said.

“What’s that got to do with…” Professor McGonagall began, but Severus held up a hand to stop her.   
“Once an alpha veela has made himself known, suppressants will not work in continued usage.”

“Well that’s bloody useless,” Draco said with a groan.

“You're not meant to fight your nature Draco,” Severus said.

“Who is it then? Though I suspect I could guess.” Draco looked down at the floor then and Severus grinned.

“Oh do let me tell Lucius.” Draco paled at that.

“Now Severus, you stop that  _this_ instance!” Professor McGonagall chided him. Severus smirked in spite of himself.

“I’m afraid my dear boy there’s nothing I can do for you here. The suppressants will run their course and so long as you are in the vicinity of an alpha veela you will not be able to suppress your nature.”

Professor McGonagall harrumphed at that. “I can have your timetable moved,” she said.

At this Severus laughed. “Minerva, surely you realize what Potter’s being the alpha in question  _means_ don’t you? He took to stalking my godson in sixth year, what on  _earth_ makes you believe he’d not do so again now? Besides, Draco lives in the 8th year dormitory does he not?”

“He’ll be moved to his own private dormitory immediately,” Professor McGonagall said. Draco frowned slightly at that. While he knew it was mostly for his protection, the thought of being ostracized any further for his veela-ness was mortifying to say the least. “I’m sorry,” she said turning to him then. “I know this must be difficult for you. But should things get out of hand, you may require a private tutor to ensure your lessons can continue uninterrupted.”

Draco swallowed. “I’ll keep trying the suppressants. And I’ll stay as far away from Potter as possible,” he said.

Severus snorted from his portrait. “I will speak to Slughorn about trying to adjust the dosage,” he said disappearing from his portrait. Draco sighed.

“Have a biscuit Mr. Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall said, handing him a tin of biscuits. Draco took one gratefully and nibbled on the corner. “Everything will turn out alright,” she promised. “You’ll see.”

Draco nodded solemnly, he certainly hoped so, and with that, he turned and left the Head Mistress’s office.

  * * *

Two agonizingly long weeks later, found Draco standing outside the Head Mistress’s office again, his hand hovering above the door when he heard his godfather’s voice from the other side.

“Even in death, I am more competent than that buffoon. I insist that you reinstate me to my position as potions master, Minerva!” Severus snapped. Draco was certain he heard Professor McGonagall huff, perturbed at that. Draco had spent the better part of the last two weeks, largely holed up in his private quarters, with only Blaise and Pansy for company. Pansy was insanely jealous, and Draco had to admit there was something to be said for having a private room all to himself. He’d convinced Minerva to make them just off his old Slytherin dorms with a private entrance that allowed Draco the atmosphere of the Slytherin dorms without bothering the other students. He’d taken to doubling up on his suppressant potions only to have half the effect. 

For his part, Potter was relentless, he’d begun stalking Draco once again, as Snape had predicted. Unbeknownst to Potter was that despite his invisibility cloak Draco  _always_ knew where he was now. He could smell him a mile away, and beyond doing aggravating things to his libido and overall concentration, it allowed Draco to keep Potter as far away from his private rooms using extensive evasive maneuvers. It would have felt  _good_ to finally have one over on Potter, were it not for the fact that it somehow  _still_ felt like he was losing here. He  _wanted_ Potter to chase him now. Or his veela side did anyway. It was hard to tell and honestly, Draco wasn’t sure how much was him and how much was just the creature side of him longing for a mate.

“Severus, you know I can’t do that,” Professor McGonagall’s voice jerked Draco back into the present. “A portrait can’t teach the students!”

Severus snorted, “And yet even as a portrait I’m still far more suited to the job,” he said. “The man is impossible!”

“Be that as it may Severus, Slughorn is who we have, and until another  _you_ comes along, Hogwarts will have to deal with that.” The lull in the conversation between the two then spurred Draco into action, rapping smartly on the door several times. “Come in Mr. Malfoy,” the Head Mistress said.

Severus smiled at him again as Draco entered. “Ah, Draco, excellent timing. Professor Slughorn and I, mostly myself, managed to tweak the existing suppressant potion that  _should_ ensure a month of suppressant with one dose while also fixing that damnable appetite issue, overall I think it should prove rather beneficial to you,”

Draco grinned, “Oh thank you Sev!” Draco had half a mind to hug his godfather’s portrait, but beyond how ridiculous it would look, Severus would never have allowed it so instead he stayed rooted to the spot, beaming at the man.

“Yes yes, you’re quite grateful, now. Undoubtedly it will not throw off the alpha veela for long. Potter is tragically for you rather powerful in any form. Which makes him something of an attraction for you,” Draco swallowed at this. The thought that Severus knew more about his ‘attraction’ than he might be letting on made him very nervous. He hadn’t forgotten his godfather’s joke of telling Lucius and the thought terrified Draco more than he wanted to admit. “For now, however, assuming you can stay away from him it should help considerably,” Draco nodded taking the phial, draining it in a single gulp.

It was sweeter than the previous version he’d become used to with just a hint of something spicy that reminded him a little uncomfortably of Harry’s scent. He wondered if the potion would finally dull that for him or not. A small part of him hoped it wouldn’t, despite himself he  _loved_ that smell.

“Now,” Professor McGonagall said. “Professor Slughorn will be providing all future potions a week before you’re due to take them to your private dorms. Just as an added precaution. A house elf will deliver them to you. It’s imperative that you not miss a dose, Mr. Malfoy, the consequences could be dangerous for both yourself and the students here. It is my understanding a veela becoming pregnant is not unheard of.” Draco swallowed hard as he left Professor McGonagall’s office, trying not to think about the events that would undoubtedly lead to him becoming pregnant. Especially not with Potter’s child.

He had almost made his way back to the dungeons when Draco spotted Potter coming out of the Great Hall. He could no longer smell the alpha veela’s scent which disappointing though it was, meant that Draco would be able to live his life as normal, and finally concentrate in the few classes he shared with Potter. Harry grinned at him in a way that made Draco shiver. 

It occurred to Draco that whatever he had previously tried to tell himself about his interest in Potter being largely his veela half playing tricks on him, the fact that Potter still seemed to have a considerable effect on him even with the potion, was proof enough that as his friends had teased him for years, Draco really  _was_ in love with Potter.  _Right, perfect, just what I need. Father to disown me._ Draco thought shaking his head as he took the stairs to the dungeons two at a time and made his way towards the portrait that hid his dorm. A portrait of one Albus Dumbledore.

“Good morning Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore said. Draco forced a smile, it was difficult at the best of times meeting the old wizard’s piercing gaze. Even through his portrait, it felt as though he could see into Draco’s very soul. “Doing well I hope,” Draco nodded, quietly mumbling the password before he slipped through the portrait and into his room, willing himself not to cry, at the memory of his sixth year when his life had gone from bad to hellishly worse.

* * *

 


	5. The Weasel and the Snake

September had given away to October and with it, Harry’s obsession with Draco Malfoy had once more reared its head. Worse still, Hermione was frantically revising for her NEWTS, making her nearly impossible to speak to for more than a few seconds at a time. 

“Harry whatever it is, I’m sure you can handle it on your own,” Hermione said, barely looking up from her sprawl of books on the table. 

“If you’d tell me where to look I might,” Harry replied. 

“Right, what is it you need?” she asked, forcing herself to look at her friend now. Harry’s hair was standing on end more than usual, as though he’d been running his hands through it. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.  _Honestly, how did Harry and Ron plan to survive without her?_ She thought, shaking her head. 

“I want to court Draco,” Harry said. Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. Whatever she’d expected Harry to say, this wasn’t it. So why did it make so much sense? 

“Oh Harry,” Hermione sighed. “Right well, what do we know about Draco Malfoy then? He’s both a veela and a pureblood which means courting him is slightly trickier. Veela courting rituals aren’t super well known. Allegedly Scamander was researching it in the last years of his life. Perhaps if you can find his private journals in the library you might be able to figure out something there. As for the pureblood aspect that’s considerably easier. There are  _plenty_ of books on pureblood courting rituals. Just off the top of my head,  _A Gentleman’s Guide to Pureblood Courting_ by Sir Kensington Kentworth is a good place to start.  _Lady Selwyn’s The Pureblood Wife_ is a pretty good one.  _Old World Rituals_ by, someone, Rowle, Travers? One of the Sacred 28. A lot of them have written books or had works published about pureblood courting or just their own courting experiences. Actually, I suspect Narcissa Malfoy would even be a good resource. Who would know Draco better right?” Hermione smiled and Harry nodded. 

“Thank you, Hermione.” 

“How… sure are you about this Harry?” Hermione asked. Harry looked confused. “I mean, are you looking for a quick shag or do you  _actually_ intend to marry him someday? Because courting… it’s not just for a quick rendezvous. It’s meant to be something that leads to marriage.” 

Harry frowned, “I don’t… I don’t know. I mean, I fancy him. More than just a quick shag but marriage that’s…” Harry hadn’t really thought much about the idea before now. Perhaps once upon a time, he had thought of a world in which he would grow up and get married and have children, but that had been before, and when he still thought he loved Ginny. A little dream he’d allowed himself to have  _if_ he survived the Dark Lord. When letting himself think about his sexuality was dangerous at best and  _terrifying_ at worst. Everything had been so clear after his death, and after the defeat of Voldemort, Harry found with no one chasing him, running from his sexuality was next to impossible. Then there was the whole veela thing which had been held off by the bloody Horcrux, and suddenly hit him full force at nearly eighteen. It was all so confusing.

In some ways, it didn’t seem like it had only been five months since Voldemort’s defeat and yet,  _everything_ had changed and it seemed like a lifetime ago now. 

Hermione sighed, knocking Harry out of his thoughts “Harry. You have to understand. Draco is a pureblood. He’s likely been betrothed since he was born, probably to a witch no less.” 

“But he’s not…” Hermione held up a hand. 

“Pureblood’s are like… a hundred years behind even wizards who are like a hundred years or more behind the Muggles on where things are. And considering  _most_ Muggles aren’t totally on board with the gay thing,” she shook her head. “Lucius Malfoy wouldn’t  _willingly_ allow his only heir to not marry a witch. I mean that’s  _why_ he’s on the suppressants, isn’t it? His father didn’t  _want_ him to be a submissive veela,” Hermione sighed. “It’s tragic really. Could you imagine growing up in that world, with the  _importance_ of keeping your family going hanging over you like that? It can’t have been easy.” 

“But he could still  _have_ children,” Harry said. “He can get pregnant.” 

Hermione gave Harry a look then. “Harry. If  _he_ got pregnant the child wouldn’t be  _his_ heir. They would never be a Malfoy.”

Harry frowned. “How do you  _know_ all of this?” he asked. Hermione blushed violently then. 

“I… might have done a bit of research,” she said quietly, trying to bury her face in her books again. 

“Got a pureblood lover of your own?” 

“ _Hardly,_ ” Hermione said. “Well, nothing yet, anyway,” she paused, shaking her head. “This isn’t about me,” she said. Harry grinned. 

“Who is it? Is it someone I know? I mean obviously, they’re a pureblood which is a lot of people. Actually. It’s not Ron is it?” 

Hermione snorted. “No. Look I’m not going to tell you anything until I’ve… I’m just not telling you anything so mind your business okay?” 

Harry smirked, “Alright Hermione. I’m sorry. And listen, thanks for the advice. I’ll do my research,” Harry stood, and Hermione grabbed his hand. 

“Harry. I meant what I said.  _Don’t_ do this if you don’t intend for it to go somewhere beyond a casual fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this but… Draco deserves better than that.” 

Harry nodded. “I know Hermione,” he said, and with that, he left the library. 

*** 

A week before Halloween, at breakfast, Professor McGonagall called the students to attention, “Attention students!” she said through a Sonorus. “May I have everyone’s attention please?” the room fell silent as the Head Mistress spoke. “Thank you. Now earlier this morning I received word from our sister schools, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and Illvermorny will be joining us for a Yule Ball this year, in the spirit of unity amongst the magical community.” The Great Hall broke out in murmurs at this. “Just a few more things please,” Professor McGonagall said holding up a hand. “Now then, this year the Yule Ball will be open to sixth years and up, due to the additional 8th year students, and Illvermorny students. The students from the continent should be here within the week, while the American students should arrive by the end of the week. We will be hospitable and courteous to our guests while they are here,” she said, and with that, the murmurs continued. From across the Great Hall, Harry caught Draco’s eyes. Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry suddenly. Not for the first time, Harry found himself wishing desperately that he could read Draco’s mind. 

By the middle of the week, both the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students (and several professors) had arrived—much to the consternation of one Harry Potter. It was bad enough dealing with watching multiple Hogwarts boys staring at Draco or otherwise pawing at him  _honestly was he the only submissive veela in the school?_ But it was  _quite_ another witnessing the seemingly endless string of Alpha veelas that Durmstrang had churned out constantly staring at Draco, it seemed even despite his newest suppressant potions, there was just something about the blond that seemed to catch everyone’s attention. Worst of all of these was Viktor Krum, who had retired early from Quidditch after an injury and had opted instead to become a Durmstrang professor and who seemed to be hanging on Draco’s every word. Harry growled, watching as Draco laughed, throwing his head back to expose that long, pale expanse of throat that Harry just wanted to bite and claim. Draco’s thin hand touched Viktor’s bicep, and it was all Harry could do not to rip his hair out. 

“What’s eating you?” Ron asked. 

“Malfoy,” Hermione replied. 

Ron groaned, “Not again mate,” he sighed. 

“It gets worse,” Hermione said. 

“Finally admitted he’s in love with the ferret then?” Ron asked. Harry swallowed hard. 

“I don’t know about  _love,”_ he said. 

“Bloody hell. Out of  _every_ bloke in Hogwarts?” he shook his head, frowning, and with that, Ron got to his feet and stormed out of the Great Hall. 

“Well that could have gone better,” Harry said. Hermione sighed. 

“Sorry Harry.” 

*** 

“Hey, wait up!” shouted a voice from behind Ron as he made his way through the Hogwarts atrium. Ron turned to find Blaise Zabini running up to him. 

“What do you want Zabini?” Ron asked. 

Blaise gave him his best seductive smile then, Ron blushed, violently. 

“Have you got a date to the Yule Ball?” Blaise asked. 

“Who wants to know?” Ron asked, suspicious. 

“I do,” Blaise replied with a shrug. 

“Why?” 

Blaise gave him a smirk as he moved closer. “Because I fancy you, or hadn’t you noticed?” 

Ron swallowed. “I… hadn’t,” he said. Blaise smirked. 

“Gryffindors,” he said, pulling Ron into an alcove just off the Great Hall to give them more privacy. Ron stared up at him nervously then, as Blaise pushed him hard against the rough stone, caging him in with his arms, as he looked down into the ginger’s sapphire blue eyes. 

“I’ve never, you know, with a bloke before,” Ron said, blushing violently then. 

Blaise smiled, pushing Ron’s fringe off his forehead. “Promise I’ll be gentle with you,” he whispered into his ear, eliciting a shiver from the redhead. Blaise pressed their lips together, slowly. Ron groaned, wrapping his arms around Blaise’s neck in an effort to deepen the kiss. Blaise’s hands slipped to Ron’s waist, gripping his hips tight, pulling him flush against him. Ron gasped, and Blaise slipped his tongue into Ron’s mouth, letting his hands roam down the redhead’s arse. 

Ron bucked up against Blaise at that, and the taller of the two growled, low in his throat, kissing his way down Ron’s jaw, towards his throat. Ron gasped, as Blaise sucked on his jugular. “Gods your so hot,” Blaise hummed against the pale flesh beneath his lips. “I’m rather addicted to these freckles,” he added trailing his tongue down his collarbone. 

“Blaaaise,” he whined. 

“Sorry babe. I’ll try not to be such a Hufflepuff,” Blaise purred. 

“Maybe we should take this back to our dorm,” Ron said with a groan as he felt Blaise’s free hand slipping down towards his crotch. The simultaneous assault on his throat, arse, and growing erection were making Ron rather lightheaded. 

“I like your thinking,” Blaise smiled against his throat, grabbing Ron’s hand he pulled him out of the alcove, nearly running them into Harry as he was exiting the Great Hall. 

Harry eyed the two of them. Ron was blushing crimson, purple spots blooming across his exposed throat. His robes rumpled and askew. Harry raised an eyebrow. 

“So, let me get this gay,  _you_ can snog a Slytherin, but my being interested in Draco is a problem?” he asked, his arms folded. 

Ron blushed again. “I admit I may have overreacted a bit,” he said. Harry laughed. 

“Right well, don’t let me keep you.” 

Blaise smirked. “I owe you one Potter,” he said and with that he pulled Ron with him up to the dorm. Harry smirked, shaking his head as he watched them go. He couldn’t help but be happy for his friend. He and Blaise cut quite the picture, he noted. 


	6. Stolen

The Saturday after the arrival of the Illvermorny students in the morning, Draco, Blaise, and Pansy had snuck down to Draco’s private dorm, away from the commotion and excitement of meeting the American students. Draco sighed, collapsing onto his bed.

“Weren’t you Mr. Popular?” Blaise said with a smirk.

“Is Illvermorny just the queer school or what. My gods, was there any boy there that didn’t want to shag you?” Pansy shook her head.

“Not to mention the Durmstrang boys who were circling like he was chum in the water this whole week,” Blaise said almost sing-song.

“Several Beauxbatons boys too,” Draco said quietly. “Suppose they were just happy to find someone here who spoke French too,” he shrugged. Pansy and Blaise shared a look at that. “I’m rather knackered from my many suitors,” Draco said.

“Then there’s Potter,” Blaise said.

“What about him?” Draco asked.

“He’s been looking like he was ready to murder the lot of them,” Blaise said flippantly. “Ron might have also mentioned he’s been pissy in the common room.”

“Finally bagged the Weasel then?” Draco asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

Blaise frowned, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ll thank you not to make fun of my boyfriend,” Blaise said, seriously.

“Sorry, darling. Weasley then. Ronald? Ickle Ronniekins I believe I once heard the twins call him?” Blaise shuddered and Draco couldn’t help but snicker.

“Weasley will more than suffice.”

Draco smirked, “I’m happy for you.”

“Lying prat,” Blaise said with a snort.

“Right,” Draco said getting to his feet. “I need a bath, you two are welcome to stay or snog your collective Gryffindors,” he said with a shrug. Blaise snorted.

“Diva,” he teased. Draco flipped his friend two fingers at that and sauntered off, slipping out of his clothes as he went. Blaise shot up from the couch as soon as Draco was gone, rummaging through his trunk. Pansy eyed him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded as they heard the sound of water turning on. Blaise smirked triumphantly as he plucked the phial from Draco’s trunk and slipped it into his pocket before flicking his wand at the trunk and putting everything back to rights. Blaise turned and made his way toward the portrait.

“We’ll be off, princess,” Blaise shouted, loud enough Draco would hear.

“Enjoy your shag with the ginger nightmare,” Draco called back, before Blaise slipped through the portrait, Pansy following quickly behind him.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” Pansy hissed once they were in the hall and out of earshot of the portrait of Dumbledore.

“It’s for his own good,” Blaise said. Pansy raised an eyebrow at that. “He and Potter have been dancing around each other for far too long.”

Pansy shook her head at that. “And you’re going to  _force_ the issue?”

“Oh don’t get all sanctimonious on me just because your shagging Granger doesn’t mean you’re some Gryffindor goody-two-shoes. I seem to recall a few of your sins.”

Pansy glared, “I am  _not,_ ” Pansy shrieked, then lowered her voice. “Shagging Granger,” she hissed.

“Well, who’s fault is that?” Blaise asked, his eyebrow raised.

Pansy folded her arms over her chest. “She’s studying,” she said.

“So transfigure yourself into a book and show her there are other things to study. Preferably between your legs.”

“You are so crass,” Pansy hissed, swatting his arm as Blaise chuckled. “Fuck right off Zabini,” she said turning on her heel and storming away as Blaise continued to chuckle.

“What was  _that_ all about?” Ron asked, wrapping his arms around Blaise’s waist and burying his head in the taller man’s shoulder.

“Just Parkinson being Parkinson,” Blaise said kissing Ron’s forehead. “She’s in love with your swotty friend and can’t figure out how to get her attention.”

Ron laughed, “Good luck to her. Mione’s been revising like mad since we got back. She’s not likely to notice anything not made of parchment,” he sighed and Blaise eyed his boyfriend.

“Should I be worried you still hold a candle for Ms. Granger?” Blaise asked.

Ron laughed and kissed Blaise firmly on the lips then. “Does that answer your question?” he asked.

Blaise purred, “It’s a start,” he said.

Ron grinned, and leaned into Blaise and whispered in his ear, “Then perhaps I’ll have to  _show_ you, just how much I want you,” he said. Blaise growled, wrapping his arm around Ron’s waist.

“Promises, promises, I just hope you can deliver Weasley.” Ron shuddered.

“Oh, I  _definitely_ can,” and with that, the two all but sprinted back to their dorm, not planning to leave for the rest of the weekend.

                                                                ***

The library was nearly deserted, save Hermione Granger who was sitting at a lone table towards the back of the library, dozens of books precariously perched all around her. Pansy smiled softly, watching Hermione pouring over the latest revisions, crossing things out and cross-referencing them in the open book nearest her.

“Stop staring please,” Hermione said, without looking up.

“It’s dinner time,” Pansy said.

Hermione sighed, “I don’t have time,” she said. Pansy took the seat opposite her, placing a picnic basket in between them, atop the book the witch had been reading moments earlier.

“Pansy,” Hermione whined, looking up at the raven-haired girl. Pansy smirked, a challenging sort of smirk as she held the basket firmly in place. Hermione sighed, opting to give up the fight. “Fine. You win. What have you got for us then?” she asked. Pansy’s smirk faded into a regular old smile as she opened the basket, pulling out two steaming plates of shepherds pie, forks, two glasses of pumpkin juice and a bottle of whipped cream before she moved the basket over to the side.

“What’s that for?” Hermione asked eyeing the can of whipped cream. Pansy’s smile was positively feral.

“Dessert. Later. Preferably in your dorms, though I’m more than willing to take my dessert here,” she said with a wink and Hermione felt a shudder at the implication of the witch’s words.

“That’s very… presumptuous of you,” she said, trying to sound less eager than she knew herself to be.

“We could skip dessert if you’d prefer?” Pansy suggested, tucking into her shepherd's pie. Hermione watched in rapt fascination the way Pansy’s tongue moved around the tines of her fork, trying and failing to will away images of that tongue moving like that elsewhere.

“No, no. I mean, since you’ve gone to all the trouble,” she said, swallowing hard. “It all looks, delicious,” she said breathlessly. Pansy smiled at her again.

“I have no doubt it will be,” Pansy said. “Positively, orgasmic I’d wager,” she added, and it was all Hermione could do not to shudder at Pansy’s words.

                                                              ***

The portrait to Draco’s dorm swung open, just as Draco had stepped out of the bath, Draco barely gave the portrait a second glance, assuming it was Pansy or Blaise again, as he moved to pull on a fresh pair of pants beneath his towel before he pulled on his silk robe. A sharp intake of breath made Draco turn, to find not his friends standing there, but Harry Potter.

“Draco,” Harry whispered his name like a prayer.

“How did you get in here?” Draco asked, feeling less mad than he knew he ought to, given he was half-naked in front of his greatest crush and former enemy.

“Dumbledore let me in,” Harry said with a shrug, staring at the pale expanse of collarbone exposed beneath Draco’s silk robe. Draco snorted.

“Of course he did. Traitor. I suppose it’s my karmic punishment for trying to kill him,” Draco said shaking his head.

“I don’t know, I could think of better ways to punish you,” Harry said and Draco swallowed hard at the images assaulting his mind then.

“Kinky Potter,” Draco shook his head, walking over to his bed, Harry’s eyes following his every move. Draco smirked, feeling emboldened by Harry’s rapt attention. Grabbing his lavender crème lotion from his bedside drawer, Draco unwrapped his robe, watching Harry’s reaction as he let the robe slide from his shoulders, and pool into a puddle of silk at his feet. Harry swallowed, licking his lips. Draco unscrewed the lotion and dipped his fingers into it, dragging the lilac tinted crème up his arms, and across his chest. He could practically hear Harry panting as Draco dipped his fingers in again and moved up his other arm. Down his stomach. Draco perched, a long elegant pale leg onto the bed and began to run the lotion down his thigh and calf, Harry’s eyes glued to the movements as Draco moved in slow, maddening, sensuous movements, massaging the lotion into his flesh.  “You know,” Draco said absently, as he moved to lotion his other leg, teasingly. “I’ve been getting a lot of attention from the men of Durmstrang, and Illvermorny.”

“Draco,” Harry’s voice cracked.

“I’m not much for the American’s of course, but I suppose I could make an exception. There is that one, Ethan,” Draco said. Before he knew what had happened, Harry had appeared at his side fast as if he’d apparated. Harry growled.

“Don’t,” he hissed. Draco looked up at him then, his eyes were stern and burning with desire.

“Who’s going to stop me?” Draco demanded, giving Harry a challenging look then. Harry swallowed.

“Are you going to the Yule Ball?” Harry asked him suddenly, remembering Hermione’s words from earlier. Draco raised an eyebrow at that.

“Yes. Not that anyone’s asked,” he shrugged.

“I’m asking,” Harry said. Draco snorted.

“Is  _that_ what you’d call it?”

“Go with me,” Harry said. It wasn’t a question and his tone brooked no argument, yet Draco couldn’t help himself. Winding Harry up was his favorite past time after all.

“Why should I?”

“Because I want you,” Harry growled low in his ear. Draco swallowed hard, his body shivering at the implication.  _Gods he wanted this man_ , Draco swallowed, shaking his head.

“So?”

“Draco,” he said, his voice firm. “I  _know_ you want me too,” Draco stared up into his brilliant emerald eyes, not wanting to betray the truth of Harry’s words.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he said. “Go back to your dorm,” he said trying to sound firmer than he felt. Harry eyed him then, looking to argue but Draco couldn’t take it. Not now. The thought of trying to pretend as though he didn’t want Harry to claim him then and there was almost too much to bear. Draco refused to give into his veela urges. The thought that Harry only wanted him because his instincts told him to, caused a pain to rip through him then, one that Draco didn’t want to think too hard about. But Harry hadn’t moved. Vaguely in the back of his mind, Draco could feel his defenses slipping, the suppressant potion was dissipating and Draco knew he needed a refill. Ignoring Potter, for the time being, Draco turned towards his trunk and began to search for the phial. It was gone. 

“FUCK!” Draco shouted, rounding on Harry then, a rage burning through him as he realized the potion had vanished. “What have you done with it?” he demanded, pulling out his wand. Harry looked at Draco, confused.

“What have I done with what?” he asked.

“My bloody potion! I know you’ve stolen it. You said Dumbledore let you in just now, it wouldn’t have been hard for you to sneak in here when I was out and steal it! Hoping for a shag Potter? Hoping if you get my defenses down by keeping the potion away from me you can get me to come running to you!” he demanded, feeling furious tears burning behind his eyes.

“I didn’t take anything!” Harry swore. “Draco I would never do that to you! I know how dangerous it could be without your potion,” he said trying to put a comforting hand on Draco’s shoulder. Draco glared, wrenching his arm free.

“Save it, Potter. This is low, even for you,” he glared at the brunette. Harry opened his mouth to argue but Draco wasn’t going to hear any of it. “Get out!” he yelled. Harry turned and made his way out of Draco’s private dorms, the portrait shutting quietly behind him as Draco fell onto his bed and sobbed.  _He was so bloody screwed,_ he thought.  


	7. Kisses and Howlers

As November gave way into December, Draco faced his first few weeks without his potion, he had found classes next to impossible. Everyone kept staring at him, all glassy-eyed and infatuated. It was all he could do to keep his mind focused on his studies. 

Louder and more intense than the stares of his fellow classmates, however, were the stares from one  _particular_ student.  _Harry._ Try though he might to remain mad at the other wizard for stealing his potion, the veela part of him cried out for the other wizard. Determined to tell his veela side to fuck right off, Draco made a concerted effort to get the attention of the Illvermorny boy, Ethan whenever he could, he was handsome enough Draco supposed, tall, with mousy brown hair, and didn’t  _quite_ get all glassy-eyed around Draco. Still, the moment he asked Draco the Yule Ball, Draco accepted immediately.

***

For his part, Harry was perturbed. Ethan had been bragging all over school that he’d gotten Draco to go to the Yule Ball with him, much to the chagrin of seemingly everyone else in the school. Worse still, Draco insisted on hanging off the boy’s arm any chance he got, which  _always_ seemed to be whenever they were in Harry’s direct eye line. Not that Harry seemed capable of looking away from the blond. It was all working to drive Harry around the twist, to say nothing of Draco’s scent, which had suddenly come out full force. A mix of wildflowers and the smell of rain. Fresh, and inviting, and Harry couldn’t help but let himself drown in the scent any chance he got. It was addictive and Harry knew he never wanted to smell anything else for as long as he lived. Many a night Harry had given in to thoughts of burying his nose in Draco’s throat, deeply inhaling the scent of the other veela he so wanted to claim. It was all Harry could do not to scream.

Then, two weeks before the ball, Draco entered the Great Hall, with a mouth shaped purple bruise that covered his throat, and Harry snapped. Leaping to his feet, Harry stormed out of the Great Hall, causing as much racket as he could as he left.

***

Draco was frowning at his pancakes, he’d drowned them in syrup and even with all the sugar, it wasn’t quite as appealing as he’d hoped. Pansy and Blaise shared a look, then turned back to look at Draco.

“Draco, were you aware you had a rather large bite on your neck?” Pansy asked. Draco raised an eyebrow at his friend. Pansy patted the spot just below her chin with her finger, and Draco picked up his butter knife, examining his reflection in the gleaming metal surface. There in the knife’s reflection, Draco could see the hickey that hadn’t been there when he’d woken up this morning. Draco’s eyes lowered, as he looked around the Great Hall to find Ethan, laughing, and high-fiving his American cronies. Draco glared, pulling his wand out of his pocket, sending a stinging hex at Ethan before he stood and stormed out of the Great Hall, furious.  _Jackass!_ Draco thought, spelling the hickey off him. He had barely stepped several feet into the entrance hall before he’d been bodily dragged into an alcove. Draco nearly screamed, but the calming and familiar scent of Harry filled his lungs and Draco found his fear evaporating almost instantly.

Fierce green eyes bored into grey, “I see you got rid of that mark,” Harry spat.

Draco snorted, “It wasn’t real. We’ve not even so much as snogged, I’ll thank you to know!” Draco didn’t know why he was telling Harry this, or why he  _needed_ Harry to believe him, but he did.

Harry growled, shoving Draco up against the rough stone wall behind him, and leaned in close to his ear.

“We could stop all this you know. All you have to do is say the word, and you’re mine.”

Draco shivered at Harry’s words. It was  _so_ tempting, but he couldn’t let himself. “No,” he said, though it sounded weak even to his own ears. Harry pulled back, staring at Draco intently then. “It’s not real,” Draco whispered, more to himself than to Harry.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked.

“You only want me because I’m a veela,” Draco said. “That’s the only reason  _anyone_ wants me,” he sighed. “But I’ve wanted you for as long as I can remember. I mean after everything we’ve been through, how could you possibly ever want me beyond my veela-ness.”

Harry shook his head, holding Draco by the shoulders then, “I don’t care about any of that,” Harry promised him. “I care about  _you,_ Draco. The veela side of us, that isn’t some separate creature. It’s a part of us. My interest in you isn’t just because I see you as a potential mate, though  _I_ can’t deny that I do. But I like you for you. All of you.”

Draco stared into Harry’s eyes at that. There was so much emotion in them, and Draco couldn’t help but believe him. “Harry,” he whispered.

“I need you to know that I didn’t steal your potion,” he said. “I could  _never_ do that to you,” Draco nodded, He wanted so desperately to believe Harry. Harry  _wouldn’t_ do that to him. It seemed foolish to believe that Harry ever would and yet… the potion  _had_ gone missing, and standing so close to Harry, Draco couldn’t help but wonder why he’d ever questioned it. “May I kiss you?” Harry asked. Draco swallowed, his mind was screaming out.  _Yes, yes, kiss me. Claim me. Mine. Harry, mine, mine, MINE!_ Harry pressed their lips together, and all other thoughts vanished from Draco’s mind then. Kissing Harry was  _everything_ Draco could have hoped for, and so much more. His lips were rough, and claiming, and tasted impossibly sweet. The scent of Harry filled his nose, strong and masculine, and it made Draco feel instantly safe, and protected, as though nothing bad could possibly happen to him as long as he remained in Harry’s arms. Draco wasn’t sure when exactly Harry had wrapped his arms around his waist, or when his tongue had slipped into Draco’s mouth, only that Draco couldn’t get enough. Harry’s lips were like oxygen, and Draco was a drowning man, desperate, needy. He wanted to be claimed by Harry then. It was all he could think about, as Harry’s lips trailed across his chin, down his throat. All it would take was just one bite, and he would be Harry’s.

Harry nibbled on the spot just below his ear, dragging his tongue across the warm flesh of Draco’s throat. Draco gasped, arching into Harry then.  _Do it!_ Draco’s mind yelled.  _Do it, do it, DO IT!_ Draco could barely form words, his mind was deliciously blank as Harry’s fingers dug into his hips. “Please,” Draco whimpered. Harry smiled against his throat and bit down on the soft flesh, hard. Draco moaned loud.  _Yes, yes, yes!_ His mind screamed, as Harry sucked on the spot below his ear, making Draco keen. Harry swirled his tongue over the flesh he’d just bitten, pressing his lips against it softly.

Draco’s legs felt weak, and if not for Harry holding him up then, he was certain he would have collapsed to the floor. Draco sighed contentedly as Harry pulled his lips away, grinning.

“How was that?” he asked. Draco nodded, feeling a shiver run up his spine.

“Incredible,” Draco said.

Harry smiled kissing his lips softly. “Good.”

Draco sighed happily.

***

Unfortunately for Draco, news of their relationship had traveled exceptionally fast, and it wasn’t long before Lucius had gotten wind of their snogging sessions. Barely three days after their first kiss, the crimson letter dropped itself from the Malfoy family Raven, Cerberus directly onto Draco’s plate of waffles.

“Well that’s not great,” Harry said just as the Howler burst to life and Lucius Malfoy’s voice bellowed across the Great Hall.

“DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! I have spent the better part of the last three months attempting to set up a proper partnership for you! So imagine my surprise to learn that my son has been shagging none other than Harry Potter. You have embarrassed this family for the last time boy! If you keep up this affair, you can consider yourself disowned!” and with that the Howler disintegrated, leaving Draco red-faced, and nearly in tears as he stared at what remained of the Howler. Leaping to his feet, Draco ran out of the Great Hall as fast as he could, tears streaming down his face as he went. Harry growled.

“Fucking Lucius,” he shook his head, getting to his feet, and running out of the Great Hall after Draco.

Pansy glared across the table at Blaise. “See what you’ve done?” she demanded.

“Me?” Blaise replied incredulously.

“You stole his potion,” Pansy hissed under her breath. “Draco  _never_ would have kissed Potter without it.”

“It’s what he wanted,” Blaise said. “Draco’s wanted Potter for years, you know it and I know it. I just took away the one thing that was holding him back! Lucius would never  _really_ disown his only heir.” Pansy raised an eyebrow at him at that.

“You think that’s the  _only_ problem with what you’ve done?” she shook her head, getting to her feet then, and left the Great Hall.

***

Harry made his way towards the portrait of Albus Dumbledore that marked Draco’s room. “He does not wish to have visitors,” Dumbledore said. Harry gave the portrait a serious look.

“Let me in to see my boyfriend or I’ll blast a hole right through your face,” he growled.

Dumbledore stared at Harry then, his eyes twinkling. A moment later, the portrait swung open and Harry stepped quietly into the room. Draco was curled up in a ball on his bed, his blankets all curled up around him as he sobbed. Harry’s heart broke at the sight. Only a small patch of white blond hair, visible above the blankets. Harry made his way over to Draco’s side and slipped onto the bed beside him, patting the small bit of blond he could reach.

“Why can’t my life ever be my own?” Draco said, his voice muffled by blankets as he sobbed. Harry wrapped his arms tight around the bundle of blankets.

“It will be,” he promised. “I’ll make sure of it,” Harry kissed the top of Draco’s head softly, and held him against his chest, as he formulated a plan.


	8. The Department for the Protection of Magical Creatures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m SOOO Sorry for the late update, I’d like to say that it was because of like work or life but I’ve had this sitting in my notebook untyped for like a week. I got SUPER distracted with Prompts requested for me to write on Tumblr and so I ended up completely losing track of time and never getting this updated. Thank you for all the love and support despite that, however.

Malfoy Manor was in an uproar, “HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO OUR SON?” Narcissa demanded furiously. She only wished she’d known about the Howler sooner.  _Damn Lucius and his quick temper._

“Is it not bad enough our son is a submissive veela without him submitting to the likes of Harry Potter?” Lucius growled. Narcissa scoffed.

“Who Draco does or doesn’t submit to is  _not_ your concern. I’ve given you a great deal of rope here Lucius Abraxus Malfoy but enough is enough. You will retract your letter and threats to our son this instance or so help me I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Lucius demanded with a glare.

“I’ll move in with Andromeda, and leave you to figure out what to do with yourself, and I promise you, Lucius, it will be an  _ugly_ divorce.” Lucius paled.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” Pureblood divorce was nearly unheard of, and the rules for such an event were murky at best with no clear indication as to the proper division of assets. It was most common therefore in pureblood marriages for the husband and wife to live in separate rooms, living virtually separate lives from one another, free to date and sleep with whomever they pleased, provided it was done discreetly of course. A divorce would be anathema. Lucius swallowed, he could ill afford the scandal that would befall the Malfoy name if Narcissa carried through with her threat, and Lucius was not one to gamble. Deflated, Lucius knew he’d been bested by Narcissa.

It was then, as Narcissa stared down her husband that a loud screech of an owl interrupted them. The owl swooped into the room, depositing a black Ministry envelope in Lucius’s hands. Lucius looked up at the owl as it made a graceful twirl in the air, and vanished back out the window once more.

Narcissa merely glared at her husband as he opened the letter:

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_It has recently come to our attention via an anonymous tip that you have been attempting to interfere in the coupling of two veela, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Under Ministry Statute 5017-E Protections of Magical Creatures, any party attempting to interfere in either mating of any protected species covered herein in the Protection of Magical Species Act of 1999 may be subject to a fine of up to 500,000 Galleons, or up to a five-year sentence in Azkaban._

_You will be therefore brought before a hearing of the Department for the Protection of Magical Creatures on 9 December 1999. Further action to interfere in the coupling of said veela, will result in your immediate arrest by the Auror Department._

_Sincerely,_

_Ophelia Westbrook_

_Interim Head_

_Department for the Protection of Magical Creatures_

_Ministry of Magic_

No sooner had Lucius finished reading the letter than another letter had dropped before him, this one from a majestic Eagle owl, obviously from Hogwarts. Lucius was fuming as he opened the second letter:

_You’d do well not to mess with the savior of the Wizarding World. I don’t throw around my name often, but you should know better than most I will stop at nothing to protect those I care about._

_-Your Future Son-in-law_

_Harry James Potter._

Lucius crumpled the letter in his fist before he had even read the last line, he had already known who was responsible for the Ministry’s breathing down his neck and the thought that the Potter brat had thought he could best Lucius Malfoy  _again,_ was almost more than the man could bear. Lucius had only one possible path to victory left in his arsenal. Draco’s undying faith in his family, and more importantly for Lucius, his desire to make his father happy.

Lucius was not about to give up without a fight, and if Potter wanted to play dirty, then Lucius was prepared to fight dirty.

* * *

Remarkably, classes had calmed down somewhat once everyone realized Draco was taken, though it hadn’t entirely stopped the glassy-eyed stares, it had gotten to the point McGonagall had been forced to rearrange Draco’s schedule to ensure he was in more classes with Harry, in order to keep Draco safe. This arrangement suited both boys just fine with Draco comfortably cuddling up next to Harry at every possible occasion. He had never felt so safe in his life, even with the threat of his disinheritance looming.

Harry had done everything in his power to reassure his boyfriend that whatever happened Lucius would never  _actually_ disinherit him.

“Hermione, what do you know about pureblood families disinheriting their children?” he asked one afternoon at lunch. Draco tensed beside him, his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Well, it's fairly rare from what I can tell, and complicated ancient magic. Walburga Black was known for striking people off the family tree for what she considered disinherit-able offenses, but to actually go further would be nearly unheard of. Almost especially for a family with a singular heir like the Malfoy’s.”

Draco snorted then, “I appreciate the vote of confidence Granger, but if you think my father doesn’t have a secondary heir stashed away in France somewhere you don’t know the Malfoy’s very well,” he said flippantly. Harry stared at Draco then.  _Surely he couldn’t be suggesting what he thought he was._

“Admittedly there is a lot of pureblood culture I find fascinating, despite its rather less than stellar view of those like me. I’ve done a bit of studying but I’d love to pick your brain on some things,” she said excitedly. Draco raised an eyebrow, before turning to Harry.  _Pansy,_ he mouthed. Draco nodded.

“I’d be happy to help.”

“What are we talking about?” Ron asked, sitting down nearly halfway through lunch. Harry stared at his friend. His shirt was rumpled and his tie was completely askew barely concealing a series of very angry looking bruises on his neck.

“Is that a Slytherin tie?” Hermione asked. Ron swallowed looking down at the emerald and silver tie around his neck.

“So it is,” Ron said, adjusting it as if it were the most perfectly normal thing in the world. Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.

“Are all of your friends in love with mine?” Draco whispered to Harry. “Should I be expecting Longbottom and Nott?” Harry chuckled at the thought. Neville was decidedly too sweet for the quiet and brooding Theodore Nott, who had  _mostly_ managed to keep his distance from Draco since the blond’s inheritance. Thanks in no small part to Harry’s threatening glares at the Slytherin any time he dared look in Draco’s direction with even an approximation of lust or infatuation.

“I’m not even sure Nev’s gay,” Harry said. “Or bi or whatever.”

“No, I suppose he’s plant-sexual isn’t he? Always hanging out in the greenhouses.” Harry snickered in spite of himself at thought of Neville lying naked surrounded by pots of various plants. 

Despite his joking and trying to keep in particularly high spirits, Draco was preparing for the worst. Lucius Malfoy was nothing if not vindictive, and though Draco had no idea what Harry thought he was going to do to protect him something told Draco that he would have to make a choice soon enough. Harry, or his family. It was painful to consider, but in the end, Draco knew, it wasn’t really a choice at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this and would like to see more writing/say check out my Tumblr at mothermalfoy.tumblr.com


	9. Blowout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for all the love and support and sorry for taking so long to update again. I'm trying to be better about that.

Whatever Lucius Malfoy had planned, everything had gone to shit three days before his trial when the Aurors had conducted a surprise raid on Malfoy Manor. Narcissa was fast asleep in the East Wing when several loud cracks echoed through the West Wing of Malfoy Manor, as six Aurors came to inspect the home.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lucius demanded, blockading the entrance to his study.

“Anonymous tip-off Mr. Malfoy,” the Head Auror said. "We’ve been alerted to a possible dangerous misuse of magic on your property.”

“Dangerous misuse…” but before Lucius could finish his sentence, the Aurors had pushed past him and into his study, ransacking the room in search of any dark artifact Lucius might have hidden away. _It was absurd,_ Lucius thought. _Surely Potter wasn’t misusing his power to this degree._ The Aurors had made quick work of the room, upending nearly everything in sight in their search. They had almost come up empty when at last one of the Auror’s had searched the top drawer of Lucius’s Malfoy’s desk to find a glowing black crystal. The Aurors levitated the necklace to inspect it.

“Mr. Malfoy, you’ll need to come with us,” the Head Auror said. Lucius growled. _It was impossible._ He had gone to great lengths to keep himself out of trouble. Where had the necklace even come from… and then Lucius remembered where he had seen it. Deep within Bellatrix’s vault, a cursed Black Family heirloom, a necklace, elegant in its simplicity, but unimaginably sinister. Lucius couldn’t help but laugh, as the Auror placed magical shackles around his wrists, escorting him from the room. Lucius couldn’t say he was surprised to see the platinum blonde head of his wife watching from the stairs as he was taken away.

“Oh you may have bested me this time darling, but you will pay for your betrayal!” Lucius growled. Narcissa smirked and asked the Aurors to stop for a moment and she approached her husband.

“You should know by now what happens to people who try and hurt my son,” she whispered into his ear. “The Dark Lord found out the hard way the lengths to which I was willing to go,” she smiled. “Even if you worm your way out of prison, by the time Potter’s through with you, you’ll wish you'd received the kiss,” and with that Narcissa pressed a kiss to her husband’s lips, and turned making her way back up the stairs toward her room.

* * *

News of Lucius Malfoy’s arrest had reached Hogwarts by mid-afternoon with a special edition of the Daily Prophet being published and widely circulated amongst the students. As if Draco’s life wasn’t bad enough.

“I’m sorry love,” Harry said, pulling Draco into his lap and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s lithe waist. Draco sighed laying his head back on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” Harry promised, rubbing Draco’s shoulder.

“Well at least I know mother won’t disown me,” he said with a laugh.

“That’s the spirit,” Ron replied, stuffing his face full of several sandwiches at once. Draco glanced over at him.

“You know Weasley I never realized your ability to handle such a large load in your mouth at once, no wonder Blaise likes you,” he said.

Ron choked, as Harry burst out laughing, much to his friend’s chagrin. Ron glared and with some amount of effort, managed to swallow his mouthful.

“And just how would you know about Blaise’s…” he trailed off.

“Load?” Draco said with a wink. “Darling we shared a room together for seven years, you don’t think we haven't seen _all_ of each other?”  Draco smiled patting the top of his head. “But don’t you worry, our Blaise was always in love with you.” Ron couldn’t help but glare at the patronizing tone Draco was using on him, but his anger lessened considerably

“What about my being in love?” Blaise asked as he appeared beside Ron then.

Ron pouted, “Your friend is picking on me.”

“Oi, stop picking on my boyfriend,” Blaise said flicking Draco’s arm. Draco stuck out his tongue at Weasley then. Harry chuckled kissing the back of Draco’s neck. Draco sighed.

“How about we sneak into the Prefects bath and we have a nice long soak and I help you forget all about your father hm?” Harry whispered. Draco couldn’t help but shudder at the thought.

“Best not, last I saw Granger and Pansy were headed that way,” Blaise said.

“You mean Pansy coaxed her out of the library?” Draco asked with a laugh.

“Apparently she’s _very_ good at getting Granger out of things,” Blaise said.

“Like her knickers,” Ginny said from down the table. The group turned to look at her. “What, I saw a pair of Gryffindor red knickers hanging out of Parkinson’s pocket the other day, they _very_ clearly didn’t belong to her.”

Blaise chuckled, “That’s our girl.”

“You suppose they did it in the library?” Ron asked, looking somewhat horrified at the thought.

“Pansy is a master of disillusionment charms if anyone could manage it, she could,” Blaise replied. Harry couldn’t help but laugh, absentmindedly feeding Draco a few slices of bacon, and rubbing his back.

Draco sighed, “Can we just go back to bed?” he asked, turning to face Harry.

Harry smiled, giving Draco’s waist a squeeze. “Come on love,” he said standing up and helping Draco to his feet. Blaise smirked.

“Running off to shag in an alcove?” he asked. Draco rolled his eyes.

“Shut it you prat.”

“So touchy. Does that mean you haven’t gotten any then? I hate to think I wasted all that effort for nothing.”

Draco froze, “What effort?”

Blaise shrugged, “Just helping you misplace your potion.”

Draco’s eyes widened, “YOU WHAT?” he demanded.

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, you and Potter have been dancing around each other for an eternity, frankly it was getting old. So I sped up the process.” Draco stared blankly at his friend, mouth agape, unable to form words. Harry saw red, and several things happened all at once. Harry slammed his fist into Blaise’s face, knocking him to the ground. Ron leaped up, ready to lunge at Harry when Draco placed himself between Ron and Harry.

“Let’s go,” Draco said, attempting to pull Harry out of the Great Hall. Harry glared down at Blaise, looking as though he was ready to punch him again. “Come on,” Draco growled. Draco knew there would be no moving the alpha veela if he didn’t want to go, but Draco _hoped_ Harry would listen to him anyway. Harry sighed as Draco took his hand and led him from the Great Hall down to his room in the dungeons, leaving a very confused Ron in his wake. Bending down, Ron helped his boyfriend to his feet with a sigh.

“Did you really do that?” Ron asked, frowning.

“It was for his own good,” Blaise said, hand pressed to his split lip which was currently bleeding profusely.

Ron sighed, shaking his head. “I should go, don’t wanna be late for Charms,” he said.

“Wait, I’ll walk you,” Blaise said.

“That’s okay. I’d rather walk by myself,” Ron said, and with that he turned on his heel and made his way out of the Great Hall, pushing past Hermione and Pansy, with tears in his eyes.

“I told you that would blow up in your face,” Pansy said.

“Shut it, Parkinson,” Blaise growled, pushing past her.

“Did I miss something?” Hermione asked.

“Just Blaise playing god,” Pansy said shaking her head. “He stole Draco’s potion to force Harry and Draco together.”

“You knew?” Hermione asked, giving Pansy a stern glare.

“I was going to tell Draco, but I wanted Blaise to do it first,” she said.

“He’s your best friend, how could you keep something like that from him?”

Pansy sighed. “It’s not like that,” Hermione shook her head, turning on her heel and made her way out of the Great Hall.

Pansy looked around the room to find almost everyone watching her, mortified, Pansy did the only thing she thought she could do, she ran. _I’m going to kill Zabini!_ She thought, furiously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to check out some of my other work via my  Tumblr 


	10. the Yule Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my Salazar. I'm so sorry for the late post. Honestly, I got super carried away with like a dozen different stories and my motivation for finishing this one literally dwindled into nothing but it has been so popular so I really felt bad for not finishing this sooner. This is going to be a dark ending that I didn't anticipate and many won't like it.

The blow landed directly to Lucius's prone form on the cold hard earth of the Ministry holding cell. The Auror's had apparated him directly from the Manor, and tossed him into the cell along with several other criminals.

"Cissy sends her love," the man above him spat, slamming his foot into Lucius's ribs.

Lucius laughed, and spat a wad of blood onto the floor. He had severely underestimated his wife. Narcissa was more like her sister Bellatrix than he had ever imagined. Several rough kicks landed on his stomach, and ribs again, knocking the wind out of him. No matter, his plan was already set in motion. Even if he died, she could not stop him. Draco had embarrassed the family for the last time.

*  *  *

Draco sighed, standing in front of the full-length mirror in his room as he got ready for the Yule Ball. It had been weeks since his blowup with Blaise and though he hadn’t entirely forgiven him as yet, Draco knew his actions had gotten him together with Harry. If he was honest, Draco didn’t think they would have managed it on their own otherwise.

Harry smiled, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist from behind.

“You look so beautiful,” he purred, in Draco’s ear. Draco blushed crimson, taking in Harry’s dress robes as he held him tight.  _Gods but he cleaned up nicely._

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Draco said. Harry nipped at his throat, and Draco moaned. “Mmm, let’s skip the ball, I’d rather you just take me here and now.”

Harry laughed, “Are you kidding? I’ve got the most beautiful veela on earth, you think I’m not going to hold that over everyone I can?”

Draco blushed. “Harry,” he whined, turning around so he was face to face with Harry now.

“So perfect,” Harry sighed, letting his hands drop to Draco’s arse, cupping it through his trousers. Draco hissed.

“P-please don’t tease me,” he begged. Harry smirked, nipping at his throat, sucking hard on the pale flesh beneath his ear, he knew it was Draco’s favorite and he lived to tease the blond. To drive him wild.

“I love it when you beg,” Harry said, kissing his neck softly. “Be good and I promise I’ll take care of you.” Draco groaned laying his head on Harry’s but nodded all the same. “Good boy.”

Draco shuddered. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Harry laughed, “If I did that who would I tease all day?” he grinned. Draco snorted.

“Git.”

Harry smirked, pressing his lips to Draco’s own, softly, “Come on love. Let’s go dance,” he held out his arm for Draco who took it gratefully, following him down the stairs towards the beautifully decorated Great Hall. 

It looked, much as it did during their fourth year, only now Draco was with Harry, and his life finally felt so complete. Across the room, Ron was standing by the punch bowl, staring longingly at Blaise. Harry sighed watching his friend.

“Go talk to him,” Draco whispered to him. “I’ll talk to Blaise.”  Harry nodded and made his way over to his friend while Draco did the same. Blaise was drinking something out of a flask. “McGonagall’s not gonna like that,” Draco teased.

“Eh,” Blaise shrugged.

“No need to self destruct to punish yourself,” Draco said with a sigh. “I’m not mad at you anymore.” Blaise gave him a look at that. “Okay, so that’s not  _entirely_ true. What you did was really shitty. But… I know you only did it because you love me.”

Blaise sighed, “Draco I’m so sorry, I never should have…” Draco shook his head, wrapping his arms around his friend’s shoulders.

“I know. But if you do it again, I won’t be able to stop Harry killing you,” he said. Blaise laughed, wiping a stray tear from his eyes.

“Do you think Ron will ever forgive me?”

Draco sighed, looking across the room at Harry and Ron who were watching them intently. “I think he’s hurting as much as you are,” he admitted. “Come on. It’s time to get you and your man back together.” Blaise swallowed another mouthful from his flashed before he allowed himself to be dragged across the ballroom past Hermione and Pansy who were currently chatting in the corner. Draco smiled at Pansy as he dragged Blaise over to Ron.

“Listen, Weasley, as much as I appreciate you having my back,  _frankly_ it’s a little weird and I’d appreciate it if you went back to normal and took your boyfriend back because his puppy dog act is giving me a migraine.”

Harry chuckled at that. Ron blushed crimson, not daring to look at Blaise. Draco rolled his eyes. “Gryffindors,” he said shaking his head as he shoved Blaise at the redhead before pulling Harry away.

“Time to dance,” he grinned. Harry smiled happily following Draco toward the makeshift dance floor, wrapping an arm around the blond’s waist, pulling him flush against the other. Draco grinned, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders.

“Is everyone watching?” Draco asked. Harry nodded. “Good.”

Harry chuckled, “Still vain I see,” he purred.

“You love it,” Draco grinned. Harry smiled dipping Draco before he pulled him back to his chest and kissed him slowly. It was a sweet tender moment, ruined almost instantly when none other than Viktor Krum approached and tapped on Harry’s shoulder. Harry turned.

“Potter, would you mind not doing that?” Krum asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow then, “Kissing my boyfriend?”

“Kissing my betrothed,” Viktor corrected. “Lucius has promised him to me,” Draco’s eyes widened.

“He WHAT?!” Harry growled, wrapping a protective arm around Draco’s waist. He could feel Draco panicking, could sense the blond completely losing it beside him.

Viktor smiled taking Draco’s hand from Harry’s shoulder, “He has promised that  _I_ shall be the one to have Draco’s hand in marriage.”

“That’s… but,” Harry swallowed, glaring at the older wizard. “You’ll have to fight me for him,” he growled, pushing Draco behind him protectively.

Viktor eyed the brunette before him. “I’m not going to duel you, Potter. I don’t have to, the law is on my side. As Draco’s father, Lucius was the alpha veela in his life and therefore was allowed to promise him to whoever he wanted.” Draco buried his face in Harry’s shoulder, his eyes clouding with tears. Pansy, Hermione, Ron, and Blaise were at their side almost instantly.

“When?” Harry demanded.

“Last month,” Viktor replied.

“When, exactly?” Harry ground out.

“You’re stalling Potter,” Viktor said.

“No I’m making a point,” Harry growled. “I claimed Draco as mine in October. He even has the claiming bite,” he said, showing off Draco’s neck. “I’ve been his alpha veela for this whole time meaning Lucius had no right or standing to promise him to anyone.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow at them and pursed his lips. The entirety of the Great Hall was staring at them now, he would not cause a scene. Not  _here_ anyway. “Very well,” Viktor conceded. Harry didn’t trust it, it was too easy, Viktor turned on his heel and vanished into the crowd. Most of the Great Hall was still staring at them intently. Harry turned, but Draco had vanished. “Where did he go?” Harry asked his friends.

Pansy pointed to the outside of the Great Hall. Harry looked up to see a flash of white blond hair disappearing through the double oak doors. Harry ran after him, pushing through the crowd of people, cold air blew in through the doors as Harry ran outside.

Harry froze, as he took in the scene before him. Draco leaned up against one of the pillars, his breath ragged, several feet away, Theodore Nott stood in the shadows, his wand outstretched, a spell already at his lips. Harry sprang into action just as the green light exploded from Theodore’s wand. Draco looked up as the jet of green shot towards him, and Harry leaped in front of the curse. Draco screamed, and dropped to his knees beside Harry, tears running down his cheeks as he held the man tight to his chest. 

Draco could hear a ringing in his ears, and it was all he could do not to grab his own wand and hex the other man into oblivion. Clutching tight to Harry’s robes, Draco felt as though he himself were dying then. It was then, in the cold night air, Draco heard the whispered curse for the second time, and the world went black.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh PS: I know this is cruel but Harry survived, as he does.


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